Thank You
by deeonly1
Summary: The life of Annabeth Chase before Camp Half-Blood, before Percy. What really happened? What would have happened if someone said two simple words:Thank you?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Okay, so obviously I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians (no matter how much I want to) otherwise I would be publishing my story instead of going on fanfiction. Oh and I don't own the quotes I'm using either.

This is my first fanfiction so flames are welcome but try to make them "friendly suggestions" Not sure if Bobby and Matt are born yet but I'm making them two years younger than Annabeth who is seven in this story.

**Random quote: **I'm never wrong. I once thought I was wrong, turns out, I was mistaken. –Unknown

From the really not evil,

Evilempire22

My Evil Stepmother Bakes Me Cookies

**Annabeth POV:**

"Annabeth!"

There it was again. I've heard that being shouted at least a thousand times a day. I'm serious. I've been pretty much of a maid ever since my dad married my stepmother. I don't know why, but-

"ANNABETH, GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!"

Ugh. You see what I mean?

"I'm coming!" I shouted back down. My seven-year-old feet trampled down the stairs.

"What?" I asked.

"Get my purse," my stepmother said sharply. I glanced around. Her purse was sitting on a counter about five feet away.

"WHAT?" I exploded. "IT'S FIVE FEET AWAY! I WAS UPSTAIRS, AND YOU CALLED ME JUST SO I CAN GET THAT?"

"Yep."

"I'm not doing it."

She turned around to glare at me. "Now wait a minute, young lady. It's bad enough I have to share a house with you, feed you my food, and use our bathroom. I give you a life. And you can't do a simple chore for me?"

"And you can't stand up and take 3 steps?" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." I went to get her purse. She grabbed it from me and began flipping through it. I cleared my throat loudly.

"What?" she asked, without turning. "I'm not gonna tip you. Get out of my face."

"Aren't you going to say thank you?"

She turned and stared like I was crazy. "For what? Getting my purse? It's not a life and death situation. Why bother?"

"W-well, it's polite," I answered hesitantly.

"Polite?" she scoffed. "Why should I be polite to you? Now, go away."

I took a deep breath and trudged upstairs. I slammed my door and flopped onto my bed. Two seconds later, someone was shouting.

"ANNABETH!"

My eyes shot open. "What?" I screamed, flinging the door open.

"Our baseball got stuck in the gutter…again," I heard Bobby shout. I smirked. Maybe having Bobby pitch wasn't such a good idea.

I reached the yard and saw my two stepbrothers leaning over the gutter. Suddenly, Matt looked up.

"Annabeth!" he exclaimed with delight.

"Can you believe it, Annabeth?" Bobby said with a smile on his face. "It was a perfect pitch thrown straight towards him, and what does he do? Duck. Of course! I'll bet everyone ducks on national television when a baseball's thrown towards them. So he ducks, and I'm too busy yelling at him to notice that the ball just rolled into the gutter. So it's either we need a good batter or a catcher."

"What a load of baloney!" Matt exclaimed cheerfully. "The pitch was two feet above my head! Then he runs up and grabs it saying that he needs a 'rethrow.' So he throws it again and of course it has to land in the gutter!"

I laughed. Nothing like two bickering, yet happy, twins to lighten the mood of the day. I fished the ball out of the gutter and tossed it to them. They ran away laughing and pushing. No thank you. Not even a bye. I sighed and shuffled back to my room.

What happened next is pretty obvious.

"Annabeth!" Yeah. Bet you guessed it.

"Coming, Dad!" I shouted in response.

"In the basement!" I heard him say.

He was fixing up his giant hover board, something he'd been working on since last summer. My dad smiled as I came in. Then, he heaved himself up and lumbered towards me.

"Hey. Listen, I need you to help me with something, "he said.

"Dad, I already told you. Mom won't let us send Bobby and Matt to military school. She won't let us lock them up either so if you want to get rid of them you're gonna have to talk to her yourself," I said, folding my arms.

He just smiled. "It's not that, though I wouldn't mind if she did send them. Anyway, as you know, I've been working on my giant hover board, but I need a couple of things. Could you go down to the hardware store and get a couple of bolts for me?"

"Sure thing, Dad."

The hardware store was only a few blocks away, so I had time to think. Even at the age of seven, my "family" would get me to do a whole bunch of chores. So of course, being the great daughter that I am, I would help them. But of course, I never, ever got a thank you. The best thanks I could get was a simple nod of the head. Then, a few seconds later, I would be called again. It was just a giant circle.

I tightened my grip on the bike handles and chained it to the lamppost.

"Hi Earl!" I said as I walked into the empty hardware store. A man stepped out from behind a door.

"Annabeth!" he cried, "how's your family?"

"Uh…Earl, I'd rather not answer that one," I said sheepishly.

He didn't look surprised. "Well, what can I get for you today?"

"Oh, my dad's working on something, and he needs some more bolts," I answered quickly, glad for the change of subject.

"Bolts!" he suddenly shouted, jolting me out of my thoughts. He looked at me with a giant grin. "Got tons of those! Can't bolt things without 'em!"

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. Just to be polite. I paid for the bolts and went home.

Wow…..what a beautiful line. What do you think? One of a kind? That's what I thought okay now. Line…..

"Dad," I called, "Dad I have a question."

"Mmm?" he said, distracted.

"Why don't the people in this family ever say thank you to me, even though I do everything they need?"

"Dunno," he muttered. "Darn this screw; could you get the screwdriver please?"

"Sure."

"There we go!"

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to say thank you to me?" I said.

"Yeah," he said, checking the bottom of the hover board. "Are there any screws left?"

I sighed. It was impossible to get anyone to say thank you. "Here's one," I said. "I'll be going then."

Wow. This is another line. Must be my lucky day to have another line. Don't you love lines? Line line line..

When I walked into the house, I saw my stepmom standing there, hands on her hips, looking angry. But then she spoke. "I've been looking for you for ten minutes! There's a giant mess in the kitchen and you need to clean it up!" She started to walk away.

But I got angry and slightly cocky. "What's in it for me?"

She turned around and stared at me with a thin smile. "I let you live in this house and even let you do our work, and you want me to give you a reward?"

"Yes," I answered firmly.

She seemed surprised by how un-seven-year-old my answer sounded. She looked at me for a moment then finally said, "Fine. You can have a cookie." She walked away, mumbling to herself. I happily rounded the corner, glad for a change.

The kitchen was a terrible mess. A batch of cookies had been burnt and dropped on the ground, presumably from tripping over Bobby's skateboard, which had flipped over and was now stuck in a corner. Somebody had dropped the glass pitcher on the ground and spilled the pink lemonade all over the floor. My father's glasses were cracked and on the table, next to a crumpled magazine. There was a bucket of ice cream on the counter that was quickly melting. The sink was overflowing with dishes, bowls, spoons, forks, and to my horror, moldy chicken left over from last week. Gross. My mother had tried to make a smoothie, and then turned the blender on, forgetting to put on the cap (classic), and of course there were pink, frothy strawberries strewn on the ground. Worst of all, the blender was still on and stuff was still spewing out of it. I'll say it again: the kitchen was a terrible mess.

I groaned. Was cleaning this up worth one cookie? I really had no choice. Reluctantly, I began to clean up the mess. About ten minutes before I was done cleaning it up, Bobby and Matt wandered in, each armed with toy airplanes.

"Hey, Annabeth!" They said at the same time, then turning to glare at each other. There was an awkward silence before Matt decided to pipe up.

"Mom said there were cookies down here, but," he glanced up the stairs, lowered his voice and said, "but Bobby and I came because Mom said the kitchen was a mess, and we, er- I wanted to help. Bobby wasn't too happy 'bout the idea."

As if to demonstrate, Bobby grabbed the cookies, set them on the table, and he began to munch on them. Matt helped me clean up the rest of the mess in the kitchen. Afterwards, we sat down and began to enjoy the cookies. But soon, trouble came.

"ANNABETH!" my stepmom screamed as she came in. "I said you could have **one** cookie! I don't want you eating my family's food! Get out of here and go up to your room! NOW! Don't stare at me like that, young lady! What are you waiting for, an invitation? GO! Off to your room!"

"If you call that closet a room," I muttered, making my way to my "room."

I would've made it too, if it hadn't exploded as a bunch of monsters marched in.


	2. Chapter 2

My Mom Makes My Dead Body Work

I screamed. Sure. Call me a chicken, but what would you do if you were seven years old at spear point in front of a scaly demon from hell. My shrill scream alarmed my father, and he came running up the stairs.

"Annabeth, what -," then he saw the monsters. "Get back," he shouted, waving a broomstick in its face. The demon almost seemed to smile. It reached over, grabbed the broomstick and snapped it with ease. My dad gaped and stood frozen in shock.

Luckily, I knew what to do. I flew down the stairs and ran into the kitchen. Nothing. Frustrated, I looked around and headed to the garage in desperation. With a quick glance around, I spotted a weapon: a hammer. I hurriedly sprinted up the stairs and flung the door open. My father, still standing in shock, was in danger of being eaten.

"GO! AWAY!" I screamed with all the breath in my little seven year old lungs. I bashed the hammer against the dracaena's head. It didn't do much, except annoy the big snake even more. Flames erupted around me, setting my whole closet-of-a-room on fire. I heard some clambering behind me as my father rushed to get out of the blazing furnace.

Suddenly, my whole body was filled with burning pain. I felt the three sharp claws scrape against my back, which gushed out a gallon of blood. Red spots danced in front of my eyes. I was losing consciousness. No. I was dying. Leaving this hell of a life behind. Leaving what was left of my room behind. Finally.

I gasped in pain as a sharp, clawed arm flung me. The window shattered into a million pieces as I flew out of a nightmare of a life. I landed hard into a prickly shrub. The yard I knew so well. Endless hours of misery spent trying to keep the fence strong enough to keep the neighbor's dog out. I was glad I would die in a place I spent so much time on to "impress the neighbors." Maybe the dog would find me. Maybe he wouldn't Maybe no one would. Maybe my mom would come wake me up and whip my butt to get to work.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe…

I blacked out.

* * *

A swishing sound. Gentle footsteps. Whispering. My eyes flashed open. What was going on?

It'd been a couple of days since my trip out of the window. I'd moved to a very cramped spot between a couple of crates and a sheet of tin served as a door. Not exactly Holiday Inn, but I'd already spent so much time without the endless stream of chores. The only thing I could've wished for was more food. I definitely wasn't desperate enough to chow down on the dead rat in the corner.

My elbow rammed into the dumb sheet of tin while groping around for the hammer. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now the intruders would know I was here. I tightened my grip on the handle and squeezed my eyes closed. The footsteps were coming closer. More monsters. I could hear the scrape of weapons too as they came out of a hilt or something. I would kill them. Then they wouldn't hurt me anymore. My eyes popped open as I heard talking. It sounded so much like…humans?

"Are you sure?" the voice of someone you definitely didn't want to mess with.

"Something down here. I sense it." A boy. He sounded older than the girl. Perhaps a teenager.

My breath quickened. I was scared. Scared to death. Memories of my burned room, the feeling of the claws on my back, previous attacks, they all flashed through my mind. I didn't want it to happen again.

All of a sudden, my makeshift door was thrown aside. I pounced, my hammer ready to strike. I could see it. A horribly ugly face, wild hair, the face of the-the thing that'd always attacked in my dreams. The name. What was the name of the hideous creature? Medusa. That was it.

A hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. The hammer soared through the air. I kicked with all my might. Surely the monster would disappear if I kicked it enough.

"No more monsters!" I screamed. "Go away!" There was a shout of command from the boy and the monstrous head disappeared. Still, I continued to fight the man who was sure to take me to more monsters.

"Hey, it's all right," the girl said. "We're not going to hurt you. I'm Thalia. This is Luke." I didn't trust them.

"Monsters!" I screamed in fear.

"No," the boy named Luke said. "But we know all about the monsters. We fight them too."

I stopped kicking and opened my eyes. I stared at the two people. They were…like me? They knew about the monsters that attacked me? The dreams?

"You're…like me?" I asked, still wondering if I could trust them.

"Yeah. We're," Luke paused, "Well, it's hard to explain, but you're monster fighters. Where's your family?"

The question caught me by surprise. I thought back to the crazy place I called home and the crazy people I called family. They didn't count as family.

"My family hates me," I replied reluctantly. "They don't want me. I ran away."

Most of it was true. I was sure they hated me. I was sure they hadn't wanted me. But I'd only run away because I had wanted to run from the monsters. I didn't want to go back to the dumb place where I'd be forced to work.

"What's your name, kiddo?" the girl, Thalia, asked.

"Annabeth."

The boy's smile made me feel better. "Nice name," he complimented. "I tell you what, Annabeth. You're pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you."

"You could?" I asked in amazement. Did he just say that? I would get to fight? With them? They were monsters like me, Luke had said.

"Oh, yeah," Luke took his knife and handed it to me. "How'd you like a real monster-slaying weapon? This is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer."

I stared at the knife in amazement. A real monster-slaying weapon. Immediately, I felt safer with these people. Sure, I wasn't supposed to touch the knives in the kitchen except when cooking. Yet here I was, taking a sharper, more dangerous knife to kill things with. It almost made me laugh. A real monster-slaying weapon.

"Knives are only for the braves and quickest fighters. They don't have the reach or power of a sword, but they're easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy's armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you're pretty clever," Luke explained.

"I am!" I bragged. I liked the Luke guy. He was nice to me. He had given me the knife. He liked protecting me, I thought with a smile. A real monster-slaying weapon.

The girl, Thalia, grinned at me. "We'd better get going, Annabeth. We have a safe house on the James River. We'll get you some clothes and food."

Food. Something I hadn't had in a long time. It would be like another home. But what about my old home? What if Thalia was really a kidnapper that would eventually take me to the place I hated most: my home?

"You're…you're not going to take me back to my family?" I asked, with a little bit of hope. "Promise?"

Luke put a hand on my shoulder, and suddenly, I felt giddy. "You're part of _our _family now. And I promise I won't let anything hurt you. I'm _not _going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?"

"Deal!" I said with delight. A new family. A new home. A real monster-slaying weapon. Luke wouldn't fail me. Nothing would hurt me. Luke had promised.

"Now, come on! We can't stay put for long," Thalia warned.

The three of us, my new family headed towards the James River. I was happy. I was safe. But a life like mine could never stay happy forever. I thought I could stay happy. I thought I could stay safe. I had no idea how wrong I was going to be.


End file.
